Liaisons of the Mind
by Arienna Jordan
Summary: Hermione's trapped in her own mind, unaware that she's not in the physical realm. Will Severus be successful in rescuing her? Albus sends him on a mission into her mind to awaken her. But can things be that simple? SSHG
1. Chapter One

**Liaisons of the Mind**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. All HP content belongs to JK Rowling. Also, the trapped in the mind, going to save her thing was inspired by The Cell. So that isn't mine either. I'm just writing for fun here, okay? Alright, good.  
**Rating:** PG13 (currently)

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Hermione opened her eyes. Above her, lightning flashed across layers of dark gray. The stone felt cold beneath her body. She got up slowly, looking around. A lamppost stood a few feet away, its soft glow playing upon her features. Beyond the light, she could identify the shadowed outline of a large manor. She couldn't recall where she was or how she had gotten there but decided her best option was to explore the area.

Her steps carried her down a path overgrown with ivy and twisting branches. The neglected garden felt like some kind of enchanted forest from a muggle fairy tale. She stopped to study a few stone carvings. Light raindrops splashed into the pool of a detailed fountain, covered in moss. Her interest disappeared as the drizzle gave way to a downpour. Hermione ran towards the door, finding shelter beneath an overhang. She knocked softly, but there was no answer. She turned the knob, letting the door slide halfway open.

"Hello?" Nobody answered her call. She stepped forward and shivered as cool air grazed over her damp skin. Being inside offered no warmth. The room she occupied seemed spacious and was dimly lit by candles lining the wall.

Hermione ventured deeper within the residence, her eyes growing wide in response to the décor. Dozens of intricate statues were scattered throughout the space. Her fingers ran over every line and curve of a small gargoyle. Her hand paused on its face. It was contorted in anguish, seemingly alive with emotion. She could almost imagine a tear running down its cheek.

She was startled by a sudden clanking noise. It continued to echo through the room, not showing signs of relenting.

"Hello? Is anyone here?" she asked, glancing around again.

Hermione remembered that she was trespassing, and began to feel uncomfortable. But soon her curiosity forced her worries aside. Tracking the sounds, she ascended a winding staircase to the top floor. She opened a door at the end of the hall, and what she saw made her eyebrows raise. A tall man was leaning over something, hard at work. He was covered in black flowing robes, and his dark hair hung down, covering his face. Long slender fingers were wrapped around carving tools, executing precise movements with elegance and grace. He shifted his position, which allowed Hermione to view his creation in full. She gasped at the intense detail he had carved into a piece of stone. The noise made him flinch. He pivoted, his robes flowing gently with the movement of his body.

"You are quite uninvited, Miss Granger." The man's mouth curled up in a sneer.

"Professor Snape! What are you doing here?" she asked, eyes round, clenching and unclenching her robe.

"One would think that I should be asking you that same question," he said sharply. Snape looked down at her soaking wet uniform in disgust. "And for Merlin's sake girl, stop dripping on my floor."

"Oh yes, sorry sir," she replied, reminding herself to be respectful.

"Well? Are you going to explain yourself?" Snape waited calmly and crossed his arms against his chest. He raised an eyebrow, challenging her to respond.

"I don't really know what happened, sir," she said softly, head downcast. "The door wasn't locked or warded...you didn't answer. I thought I'd just take a look. I had no idea you were here. I don't even know where this place is. I woke up outside and then it started to rain and I then I ran here and--"

"You're rambling, Miss Granger. I'll get you some tea, and then you can attempt to retell things in a coherent manner." He turned and walked out.

"Professor?"

"What is it, Miss Granger?" he called from the hallway, annoyance lingering in his tone. Hermione caught up with him outside of the room. She seemed to be searching for the right words.

"Umm, do you have anything I can change into? My robes are soaked..." she said nervously. She held her arms up to let the water drip off of her sleeves. Her thick hair was matted to the sides of her face, causing her to bear resemblance to some sort of giant drowned rat. Hermione could have sworn that she saw amusement in her teacher's face, but if so, it disappeared just as quickly.

"Third door on the left, choose anything you'd like." With that he was gone, footsteps fading as he traveled down the stairs.

While searching through a collection of robes and other various items, Hermione's mind began to wander. She struggled to remember what had happened the night before. Her head was filled with images, cluttered and incomplete. Finally she was able to pull something into focus.

_She sat in the stands for nearly an hour, watching Harry and Ron practice Quidditch. The evening was quickly approaching. The boys claimed that they would retire after just "a few more minutes." Hermione decided to get some studying in before she became too sleepy. _

"_I'll be in the library! Come and find me later tonight," she shouted. Hermione waved at her friends as she left the field. On the way back she began to plan out her Potions essay, but soon lost her ability to concentrate. She could hear two people nearby, talking in strained whispers. Hermione ducked behind some bushes in surprise as the voices suddenly grew louder. She watched suspiciously as Draco and a hooded figure approached. Closing her eyes, she willed herself to remain silent, as they were only a few feet away. The mysterious associate grasped Draco's shoulder, stopping him right in front of Hermione. _

"_You will not fail me, boy." Its voice was cold and calculated, making Hermione shiver. Draco nodded stiffly and rubbed his shoulder where he had been gripped a moment ago._

_Hermione's leg began to cramp up, but she tried to stay still. She told herself to hold out, for the danger would be gone in a moment, but she couldn't stop her toes from trying to stretch. The snapping of the branch was magnified tenfold in her head. She clenched her eyes tightly and held her breath, hoping that they hadn't heard her. For a moment she believed that she had escaped discovery, but that possibility was crushed when two strong hands tore her from safety. Hermione's head hit the ground forcefully. She tried to sit up, only to be greeted with a sharp backhand to the face. Her vision was blurred, and she couldn't find her voice. Soon her ribs ached from repeated kicking. She heard the words "filthy mudblood," and then things faded to black. _

Hermione sat trembling, her current task forgotten. She couldn't remember anything more about that night, and she wasn't sure she wanted to. She finally slipped on an oversized robe and hurried downstairs. She needed to be around something familiar, even if it was her cold, snarky Potions professor. Hermione had always admired him to some degree. His intellect and wit had led her to desire his approval more than once during her schooling. The fact that she had never gained it made his respect that much more appealing.

She wasn't one to get worked up over nothing, but by the time she hit the bottom of the stairs, Hermione's stomach was in knots. She felt eager to forget her violent flashback, but she still had some questions. It baffled her as to why she was not left with any bruises from that night. She hoped that Snape would have some answers.

"Professor? Where are you, sir?" Hermione checked through several rooms. She was positive that he had said he would be downstairs making tea. After her second search she still turned up nothing. He appeared to have simply vanished from the manor. At this point Hermione was frustrated and confused. Her head was pounding and she was in no mood for games. Opening the front door, she walked out cautiously. The rain had stopped, but it was still dark and cold outside. She closed the door behind her and took a few steps toward the garden. There was still no sign of Snape. She sighed and closed her eyes to think.

_This is no time to panic--he couldn't have gone far. _Hermione attempted to stay calm, opening her eyes to look for him once more. She gasped and pulled the robe tighter around her body.

"Okay, I think it's panic time..." she mumbled as she looked around. The courtyard of the manor was now gone. She was in the middle of a heavily wooded expanse. She spun around, looking toward the original location of Snape's home. There was nothing but trees in every direction. She could hear the sound of crickets and the shuffle of leaves around her. She hoped that no dangerous animals were lurking about. Stomping her foot on the ground, she silently cursed the fact that she didn't have her wand with her. Being unarmed and alone in the woods, wearing nothing but Snape's robes made her feel quite vulnerable. The garment's alluring smell of spices served as the only thing that gave her comfort.

Hermione wiped a tear from her face. Having no other options, she began walking. She had to find something to give her answers. Nothing was making sense anymore. She thought about Harry and Ron—about being back at Hogwarts. Hermione stopped fighting back her tears, wondering if she would ever be able to go home again.

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Harry and Ron sat in Dumbledore's office, fidgeting anxiously. The headmaster had pulled them from their nightly vigil for a meeting. Harry felt guilty about being away from the hospital wing at a time like this, but he forced himself to concentrate on Dumbledore's words. Perhaps he had some news about Hermione's condition.

Before the headmaster got to the point of the speech, the door opened and another guest entered. Ron's eyes widened, and he simply gaped.

"What's _he_ doing here?!" the outburst escaped before Ron could stop himself.

Albus chuckled, looking past the boys to their Professor.

"Welcome Severus. Please, take a seat." The headmaster acquired a more serious tone, reflecting the dire situation at hand. Severus sneered at the two Gryffindors momentarily, but then sat down, waiting for Albus to speak.

"As you all know, Hermione has been under Madam Pomfrey's care for the past two days. I have done my best to discover what has put her in this comatose state. Although there is no simple answer, I have uncovered what it is that she has been stricken with. It can be best explained as a cerebral curse—a complicated trap. She is confined in her own mind, unaware that she is not living in the physical realm. Cut off from this world, she will grow weaker as time passes."

"Can we help her, sir?" Harry asked, desperation covering his face. Dumbledore tried to smile sympathetically.

"We will try, my boy. This is a very dark spell that has been placed on Hermione. Only a very powerful wizard could have performed it. Being an uncommon occurrence, there is little we know about the affliction. But I do have an idea of how to save her—granted, it will be quite risky. That is how you come into play, Severus."

At that point Snape had his hands steepled and his eyebrow raised. He wasn't sure if he took to the idea of becoming involved in another one of Albus's crazy plans, but he was willing to hear him out. The headmaster continued explaining.

"I need you to go into her mind and try to bring her back out. It is dangerous, but if anyone is qualified it is you, Severus." His eyes weren't twinkling, but they were sullen and firm. He held Snape's gaze with an urgency for him to understand.

"What?!" All three listeners responded in unison. None of them were expecting to hear something like that from Dumbledore. It just seemed too bizarre, even for the wizarding world.

"How do you propose that I accomplish what you have suggested?" Snape couldn't help feeling a bit curious. He had dealt with delving into one's thought and memories before, but nothing to the extreme that Albus was implying.

"I can get you in there Severus, but once you are inside, you must deal with the situation on your own. I don't know what you will encounter in her mind, but you must prepare yourself for any obstacle. It might be full of memories and symbolic sequences, or there might not be any method to the madness. But through it all, you must remember to keep a firm grip on reality or you might be lost as well. You will have to track her and catch up with her. She must be forced to see the truth. I cannot force you to commit to something this serious, so take a little time to think it over. I will expect your reply by tomorrow night."

Harry and Ron were too shocked to ask many more questions. They returned to Hermione's side soon after the meeting. This was definitely not what they had in mind as an adventure for their 7th year. Ron kept sniffling, and Harry took his sick friend's hand in his own.

"I'm so sorry we didn't find you sooner, Hermione. I will never forget the feeling of finding you there, beaten and bleeding...I swear I won't let you die. Fight Hermione, please fight this." Harry couldn't talk anymore. He was too choked up. Her face looked so peaceful, sleeping in a deadly trap that she was yet to discover.

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**A/N:** Hey, I'm new to this fanfic writing thing...give me some feedback, ok? Should I continue the story? Sorry if I have any messups or contradictions to the HP books. I'm trying to get it all worked out :) 


	2. Chapter Two

**A/N:** _Thank you all for the kind reviews! I know it has been ages since I've written on this story...life got in the way and I hadn't planned on picking it up again. BUT, inspiration has struck and I have more time on my hands now. Sooo, here I am, writing once again. Let me know what you think of this chapter! ._

**Note:** _I also wanted to mention that this story is taking a direction that I hadn't planned. It is _**more violent/bloody**_ than I had thought--containing an overall creepier vibe. So if you're squeemish, this _**might not be the story for you**_! Sorry. I may even up the rating in the following chapters._

**Clearing up Confusion:** _Some people were getting confused about which Snape was real and what was going on. I'm going to sum up the last chapter:  
1. Hermione's mind (First Snape sighting was all in her head, no real Snape)  
2. Flashback to night she was attacked (in reality)  
3. Hermione's mind again (Can't find Snape, getting lost)  
4. Reality (at Hogwarts w/ Harry, Ron, Snape, Dumbledore)_

_--Okay guys, hopefully that helps you to keep up with me! Just be aware that there are two Snapes currently--the real Snape (trying to save her) and the Snape that exists in her mind/dream world. Mmmkay? Alrighty, good. ENJOY!_

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**Chapter 2**

Hermione took step after step, forcing herself to continue along the forest path. It seemed as though she had been walking forever. Her feet ached, and her legs felt like rubber. She began to wonder what kind of wizardry could have brought her to such a strange world. Hermione nervously picked up the pace, feeling claustrophobic beneath so many trees. They seemed to bend and sway, creating a dreamlike atmosphere. Leaves disappeared and branches stretched and grew. The long fibers snaked down and wove everywhere, covering the ground. The dirt path grew soft and grainy, causing her to sink slightly as she walked. The air grew humid and her robe clung to her sweaty frame.

The once dark, forested enclosure was now home to a landscape that Hermione never could have imagined. Beneath her feet stretched a large expanse of sparkling white sand, lit by the faint glow of what she assumed to be moonlight. The tree trunks flowed into hundreds of silky black fibers—long and thin, swirling and twisting in a warm breeze. They flicked at her, wrapping around her face and shoulders. She shuddered at the feeling. The strands felt of human hair, silky and smooth. She brushed them out of her face, trying to avoid getting caught up in the numerous fibers.

She focused on something in the distance. A dark figure had caught her eye. It was motionless, back turned, standing several hundred feet away. The breeze caught the hem of the stranger's robe, creating a gentle rippling effect. Hermione debated whether or not to call out to the person. She weighed the options in her head, realizing that there could be consequences if she acted rashly. Not wishing to startle him, she cleared her throat softly. No response. She coughed louder this time, aiming to make the figure aware of her presence. Still nothing. She was now within ten feet of him, and she decided to take a more direct approach.

"Uh, pardon me sir? Could you tell me where we are?" Hermione waited patiently for an answer, but was still prepared to run if things went sour. Greeted by silence, she slowly extended her hand, gently resting it on his shoulder. She drew back quickly, surprised by how cold he was to the touch. At that moment the wind picked up, blowing the robe off of the figure and onto the sand. Hermione circled around the man. She inhaled sharply, placing her hand over her mouth. A twisted and mutilated face was staring at her. She almost hadn't recognized Harry. But it was his him—or at least his image. His eyes were dark and sunken in, reflecting a shell of a man. She couldn't miss the message being sent to her—bore by the body of a friend. The dark mark was upon him, larger than she had ever seen it before. It covered the full length of Harry's naked torso, touching all the way to the top of his neck. It was infected and dripping red, coagulated blood forming each line and curve. The hum of flies grew heavy in her ears as they feasted on the decay. His body began to crumble, shedding flesh into the wind. It swirled into the air, bearing the stench of what begets nightmares.

She couldn't stay. She was in shock. Her legs carried her backwards, further and further away. Soon she turned and started to run. Silent tears were streaming down her face again, leaving streaks of horror settled deeper than her skin.

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The potions classroom was finally beginning to feel the full chill of winter. Professor Snape sat stiffly in his chair, arms folded across his chest. His last class had left long ago and dusk had settled, but still he remained. In twenty minutes he had a meeting with Albus that he was dreading. Snape had thought about the predicament he was in and had come to the conclusion that he had only one option. He had to try to save Miss Granger. Yet his worries were not with the mission, but with the consequences it might draw from his darker allegiances. He was unsure if Voldermort would be able to sense his venture into his student's mind, but if he could, there would certainly be hell to pay. Knowing there was nothing more to be done, he stood from his perch and left the dungeons, robes flowing behind him.

"Ablus." The professor nodded in greeting to the headmaster.

"Please have a seat, Severus." Motioning towards a chair, Ablus Dumbledore moved towards the back of his office. Snape took the offering, crossed his legs and waited for the other man to speak. The older of the two stood, back facing his guest, with his hands folded behind him. He sighed audibly, turning again to face Snape.

"It is times such as these that I am grateful that you were trained in the dark arts. This task will require you to go beyond legilimency. If dark forces are involved, as I expect they are, you may need to use _any_ force necessary to get you and Hermione out alive. You have had some time to think things over. Have you made your decision, Severus?" By this time the headmaster had taken his seat and was leaning forward in a show of urgency.

Severus was slow to answer, taking time to collect his thoughts.

"I am willing," he said firmly. "But, I must worn you that this concept is a bit foreign. My practices have never probed so deeply. Lord Voldermort is an expert in legilimency. It would not surprise me if he had the powers to delve that far into one's mind. I have escaped him for years through occlumency, but he may be able to sense our activities if he is in fact controlling Miss Granger's subconscious mind."

Dumbledore nodded but said nothing, encouraging Snape to continue.

"He might be able to feel my presence. It is a chance I am willing to take, but we must be prepared for the consequences of exposure," the dark man concluded bitterly. He was not exactly comfortable with being discovered as a traitor to the dark lord.

The two men finished their conversation, knowing the heavy implications of what they were about to do. As they made their way to the hospital wing, no words were exchanged. Dumbledore greeted Madam Pomfrey solumnly and then spoke to Severus.

"I believe that this is the safest place to conduct the mission. I want both of you to be near medical attention if things should…" Albus grew quiet for a moment but then continued. "If things go wrong."

Snape lay down on one of the hospital beds, adjacent to the still form of Hermione.

"I am ready. Let us get on with it," Snape said, trying to sound as pleasant as he could considering his foul mood.

"Alright. This won't hurt a bit. Just relax." Dumbledore's words were the last thing the Professor heard as he drifted into a strange feeling of unconsciousness. He didn't have as much control as he imagined he would. It felt as though he were floating. He tried to hold onto his thoughts, searching to tap into Hermione's mind, but reality faded to black.

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Snape opened his eyes. He realized that he was in the hospital wing. Events came flooding back to him in his mind. Did their mission fail? Neither Albus nor Poppy was present, and the room was dark and empty. Even Hermione's body was absent from the bed next to him.

He stood up quickly, causing his head to scream with pain. He grimaced in response and took a moment to steady himself. After a few seconds, he decided to take a look around the castle. Things didn't seem right, and he was going to figure out what was going on.

The halls were empty and dark. He searched through his robes and pulled out an item.

"Lumos," he commanded. The walls lit up with the soft glow of his wand. He decided to search the rest of the floor. He made his way towards the school's Charms classroom. Normally he wouldn't set foot in the other classrooms on his own free will, but he deemed the cause a necessary one.

He was able to open the door without a problem, but he found it rather odd that it wasn't locked at that time of night. Professor Severus Snape prided himself in being prepared for any situation, but what he found in that classroom simply could not apply. The floor was drenched in blood, creating an ankle deep pool. The same red substance was smeared across the walls, portraying an intense act of brutality. The students' lifeless forms were still in their seats, slaughtered mercilessly where they sat. Even Professor Flitwick was dead, hanging by a rope at the front of the classroom, neck broken.

Snape held in the urge to vomit. He turned and walked out. Even someone as emotionless as he could not go unaffected from such a sight. Despite discovering the disgusting scene moments ago, he decided to continue his search. How could a place become so devastated so quickly? The events were almost dreamlike—

'Wait…that's it!' He thought carefully. It felt quite real, which impressed him. 'I should have known that I was already inside her mind.'

He was not prepared for how strong Voldermort's hold was over Hermione. The dark lord had turned a young woman's mind into a filthy, violent alternate universe of sorts. He didn't know how to find Hermione yet, but he was determined to figure it out. Something told him that this would be one of the strangest, and most memorable, events in his lifetime.

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A/N:** Well, what did you think? Please give me some feedback! I need it to survive, mwhahaha oo  



	3. Chapter Three

**A/N:** _Well, I'm proud. I got another chapter up in under two weeks! (Instead of nearly a year like last time :s ) This chapter just flowed out naturally for me. I had to actually stop myself from writing so much in one chapter! But things are going to get interesting...so stay tuned!_

_ **ATTN:BETAS --** I would like to make a request of you all. I am _**looking for a beta or two.**_ So if you have some beta experience and you're interested in helping me out...please email me (please send a link to either something you've written or something that you've done beta work on)! I will love you forever, I will show you my pretty artwork that I made to acompany this story and you will have other such perks of the job. _**  
**

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Chapter 3**

Snape searched Hogwarts Castle in its entirety, discovering many scenes of horrific violence. Every one of the teachers had been brutally murdered in their own classroom. He had even found Dumbledore pinned to the wall of his office, metal stakes driven through his thighs and shoulders, blood dripping down to the floor. The murders reminded him of his early days as a death eater—days that he wished to forget. Thoroughly sickened by what he had found, the professor left the school and decided to make his way towards Hogsmeade...not that the town appealed to him much more than a castle full of bloody corpses would. He never really liked that place when it came down to it. Too much incessant chatter flying around and giddy students milling about—needless to say, he didn't hold fond memories after all those years.

As he walked, he noticed that the air was warm and humid, unlike the crisp feel of winter he was accustomed to during that time of year. He pulled out his wand again, not caring that he was only inside a student's mind. He didn't trust the puppeteer in control of Miss Granger. Straightening his robes, he took a deep breath. Snape saw that he was nearing the village and decidedly quickened his pace. Even from a distance he could tell that it looked deserted. The streets were quiet, and the store windows were black as coal. Walking around the village, he explored the area thoroughly. On his way back, he noticed a difference where he could have sworn there had been nothing but darkness earlier. He was unsure of how he had missed it, but there was a red glow coming from inside the Three Broomsticks, streaming out from under the door's cracks and crevices. The light was a deep shade of hell, and the stench of alcohol grew out of it, wafting through the air. His interest was peaked, so he sought to find some kind of back entrance into the establishment. While slinking around the side of the building he paused abruptly, due to a sharp pain in his head. He clenched his eyes shut and began to grind his teeth in an air of frustration. Rubbing his temple with his index finger, he sighed.

"Damn bloody headaches."

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_Thud—Thud—Thud—Thud—Thud—Thud._

"Harry…"

_Thud—Thud—Thud—Thud—Thud—Thud._

"Harry!" Ron's voice cracked. "Are you going to quit that? You've gone loony."

Ron sat in the hospital wing, next to Hermione's bed, looking mortified. Harry was not with his two friends. He was a row down, sitting parallel to Snape's head.

_Thud—Thud—Thud—Thud—Thud—Thud._

Harry grinned mischievously as he continued flicking the top of Snape's forehead.

"What's he going to do about it, Ron? Give me detention? I've weighed the odds, and I'm willing to risk it," Harry said smugly.

"But, he's _Snape_…he'll just _KNOW_—somehow," Ron said nervously.

Harry shrugged and then got up from his Professor's bedside. He rejoined Ron and Hermione, hoping beyond hope that that greasy git of a Potions teacher was close to saving his friend.

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Hermione was panting for air. Her running slowed, and she finally came to a stop. Resting her hands on her knees, she bent over, attempting to catch her breath. The forest had cleared, and she was now on the edge of a village. There were no lights coming from the small town, but the full moon worked to illuminate the outline of several buildings.

Deep in thought, she walked along the dirt path leading into the village. She refused to believe that Harry was dead. It had to be a very powerful display of magic…maybe she had even been kidnapped. It could all just be some kind of cruel joke. Anything was possible, she decided, as she reached a back alley connecting several small shops.

Joy rose up in her as she left the alleyway and entered the main street, recognition dawning on her. She knew that the place had looked familiar! Hermione had never been more grateful to be in Hogsmeade. She had always thought the place to be overrated in all its novelties, but it felt wonderful to be somewhere familiar again. And being there meant that she was that much closer to being back at Hogwarts.

Hermione walked through the village, just happy to be done with her nightmare of a day. She had almost reached the edge of the lake when she heard footsteps coming from the opposite direction. Realizing that she was still without a wand, she tried to find a place to hide. But she didn't prove quick enough as someone came from behind and grasped her shoulder. The frightened student looked up to see the face of the Headmaster staring down at her. She visibly slumped with relief.

"Professor Dumbledore!" Hermione said, her tone showing excitement. She was about to let loose her entire story right then and there, but the older man cut her off before she could begin.

"Hermione, you must come with me. The others are waiting for us in the Three Broomsticks. Come my child, all will be explained," he said firmly, as he began to lead her back into town.

She followed him like a lost puppy, not even considering the strange circumstances at hand. She was definitely worn, showing signs that she wasn't at the top of her game. She didn't even question why the Headmaster would be out in the middle of the night, lurking around Hogsmeade. But she was quite satisfied with her ignorance, warmly secured in her blind faith. She smiled as they neared their location, hoping Harry, Ron and a warm butterbeer would be awaiting her arrival.

As they approached the Three Broomsticks, she noticed that it looked much different than it had the last time she passed it. Now it was darker than night, drenched in shadows, emitting only a crimson glow as the door swung open and closed—dark, hooded visitors coming and going from it. Dumbledore continued towards the entrance, not showing any signs of hesitation. Hermione grasped at the side of his robe, feeling that her proximity to him would protect her. She didn't feel comfortable going into such a meeting place, but she was too exhausted and confused to speak out. As they passed the threshold, her heart began to race, and sweat beaded up on her forehead. Madam Rosmerta was nowhere inside, and the once casual décor had been replaced with circular, crushed velvet booths. The lights were dim, but the whole interior seemed to glow red. The walls, fabric, floor and everything else imaginable were now the color of blood. There were dozens of pale faced men, dressed in black, sitting in the booths. They were whispering, staring at her—making her feel nauseated. The front of the room was topped off with a towering black stage. Luxurious curtains flowed from above, framing the area of entertainment, and gently rippling down along the floor. Intricate gothic-style music filled the room, showcasing the sounds of dark vocals and violin solos.

Hermione's attention reverted back to the Headmaster when his voice reached her ears.

"Wait here, I need to have a word with the others first," he said as he knocked on a closed door. It opened quickly, and Dumbledore stepped inside, shutting it behind him.

At that moment she felt a chill go over her body, but it wasn't from being cold. She turned around to face the hostile surroundings and realized that it was terrifying just being a door apart from the Headmaster.

A movement from the stage curtains caught her eye. Lights started to dim and then flash, creating a strobe-like effect. About seven or eight women strutted out onto the stage. They were beyond pale, their eyes heavy with black makeup. Their attire reminded Hermione of Muggle showgirls from the early 1900's, only with a gothic spin. The girls began to dance and sway suggestively to the music, which had grown louder. Some of them left the stage and started dancing very close to the men in the booths. Several couples formed and became intertwined, and Hermione couldn't tell who was snogging whom anymore. It disgusted her. Was this some kind of burlesque? A twisted whore house? Closing her eyes, she moved backwards until she hit the door and couldn't move any further.

Her eyes flew open, feeling hot breath on the side of her neck. A tall man from one of the booths had cornered her. His hair was long and black, snaking down to his waist. His face was pale and his eyes were cruel. Young and handsome, he seemed to be overly confident. Leaning in, he whispered into Hermione's ear.

"I'm thrilled to see that they brought in a new whore. You, my dear, are about to have experiences you could never have dreamt possible," he said in a raspy tone.

She was still in shock, which gave him enough time to run his tongue along the soft line of her ear.

"You're my whore now," he said in a mix of sensuality and brutality.

Hermione's eyes widened. As he reached out to touch her again, she reacted as if finally awoken from her stupor. Kicking him squarely between the legs, she was able to escape from his embrace. He growled in response. Now in pain, he was slower, but he was still able to grab his victim's wrist. He pinned her against the wall, pushing his muscular body against her small frame.

"You little bitch. A gentle evening is out of the question now. I see that you like it rough," he said, smirking.

She was about to scream, when the door opened behind her, revealing a frustrated Dumbledore.

"Pardon me, this young women is needed inside now. Thank you for keeping an eye on her for me," he said to the attacker as he swept Hermione away from the man and into the room.

She was grateful that the Headmaster locked the door behind them. The thought of almost being raped brought fresh tears to her eyes for the third time that day.

She stood there for several moments, attempting to recollect herself. Dumbledore was silent behind her, not making any attempts to comfort her. The room was empty, except for containing a queen size bed, a small night table and a lone chair. Harry and Ron were definitely not in the room. She wondered whom the Headmaster could have been talking to the whole time if the boys weren't in there.

"Professor, where are Harry and Ron?" she asked. He didn't answer.

"Professor?" Hermione turned to look at him.

She was shocked to see a cold, almost evil, expression on the old wizard's face. Never once in her life had she seen Dumbledore with a malicious look. The earlier urge to vomit came rushing back, but she forced herself to speak again.

"What's wrong with you, sir?"

He only smirked in response. She blinked a few times, trying to understand what was happening. _Blink._ Dumbledore. _Blink._ Dumbledore. _Blink._ Malfoy.

Malfoy! The face of her Headmaster had changed in an instant from the man that she knew into the appearance of her schoolmate, and group rival, Draco Malfoy.

"What in Merlin's name?" Hermione said in surprise and terror.

She didn't like the thought of being alone in a locked room with Malfoy, even if it was just the younger one. Who knew what he was capable of if provoked—or motivated.

"I've waited a long time for this, Mudblood," he said, stepping towards her.

_A long time for what? What's he going to do to me? Why don't I have my wand? Oh Merlin. Oh Merlin._ Thoughts flew threw Hermione's head quicker than she could process them.

She was trapped, pinned in, the back of her knees touching the end of the bed. He was inches from her now, donning a cocky grin that made her sick. He leaned in towards her, eyes level with hers, but she refused to look at him.

"Don't look away from me, Mudblood!" He said sharply.

She refused to comply, turning her head further from him. He snorted and stomped his foot like a child who couldn't have his way. In a fit of rage, he yelled a few expletives and lashed out at her. She fell back onto the bed, reeling from a punch that Draco landed square on her jaw.

Hermione's eyes were watering, a mixture from the resulting pain and her fearful tears. Her vision was blurred, causing her to become disoriented. The door made a soft click, and she felt the presence of at least two other men enter the room. She could see enough to tell that one figure was tall and cloaked in black. Another man stood adjacent to him, wearing a twisted mask and dark robes. The one with the hood over his head spoke to Draco.

"Well done boy. You have brought us the final piece in our plan," he said proudly. Then he continued, "She will prove quite useful. Quite useful indeed."

Hermione shuddered, wondering if her day of hell would ever end.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Walking along the side of the Three Broomsticks, Snape finally found something of interest. A small window was left propped open about a quarter of an inch. He peered in, and was surprised by what he saw. Albus Dumbledore was inside, pacing back and forth, seemingly waiting for something or someone.

The scene that unfolded before his eyes was surprising to say the least. He watched as his student was escorted into the room. He ducked down for a moment, worried that she had seen him through the window, but soon he returned, being careful to stay out of sight. He came back up in time to see Dumbledore transform into Draco Malfoy.

_Now this is getting interesting,_ Snape thought.

He was startled when Draco punched Miss Granger. He realized that he couldn't just sit there spying. He had to make a move. He rose to his feet, ready to do what he must.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Harry sighed. They had been sitting in the hospital wing for hours. Ron was asleep, slumped in his chair, drool running down his chin. He decided something had to be done about Hermione. Sitting there like invalids wasn't helping her any.

"Ron, wake up," said Harry.

His friend stirred, still seeming groggy.

"Bloody hell, Harry. I'm trying to sleep," Ron said in a bit of a slur.

"Wake up, Ron. I have a plan," Harry said again, more determined than ever.

"What is it then?" Ron said, yawning and rubbing his eyes.

"We have to make a move now, before it's too late. Hermione is just lying there, her only hope with _Professor Snape_. That's a problem in itself. We have to find out how to cure her…maybe even find who's doing this to her," he said firmly.

"Alright, I'm up for it. But how're we going to start?" Ron asked his friend.

Harry's eyes looked alive, putting ideas together as they spoke.

"Okay, Ron, here's the plan…"

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**A/N: **Please **Review**! Let me know what you thought about this chapter! Reviews encourage me to write more :)  



	4. Chapter Four

**A/N:** _And so the saga continues...hopefully you'll enjoy this chapter. I have many adventures still planned.  
_

_ **ATTN:BETAS --** I would like to make a request of you all. I am _**still looking for a beta or two.**_ So if you have some beta experience and you're interested in helping me out...please email me (please send a link to either something you've written or something that you've done beta work on)! I will love you forever, I will show you my pretty artwork that I made to acompany this story and you will have other such perks of the job.

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_**Chapter Four**

Snape's footsteps barely made a sound as he crept around the front of the Three Broomsticks. He entered the establishment with an air of danger, exuding intimidation as only a former Death Eater could. His black robes proved useful in camouflage techniques, making it difficult to tell him apart from the rest of the shifty crowd. He couldn't identify anyone in the bar as a Death Eater, but they gave him an uneasy feeling none the less.

Steadily moving towards the back of the room, he examined several doors along the way. His mind worked to piece together where Miss Granger might be hidden. Choosing one in the far corner, he pressed his ear against it—wary of using magic at this point.

He could hear several muffled voices beyond the wooden frame. Faint whimpers were intermingled, plainly illustrating the pain his student was feeling. He stopped eavesdropping in order to focus on the scenarios running through his head. He was trying to decide what to say if the Dark Lord was inside—what to say to preserve his position as a spy. It would have been prudent to make such plans in advance, but answers were just as slow in coming then as they were now.

_Oh, to hell with it all_, he snarled to himself, throwing caution to the wind. He knew he could manage without a script. He wasn't known as a foul and loathsome bastard due to his kind heart and honest words. He was a Slytherin for a reason, and confidence—bordering on cockiness—was not something that he lacked.

Decision made, he knocked firmly on the door and waited. He knew that the delay was due to the room's occupants using magic to identify him. He tapped his foot impatiently, not thrilled at having to play the submissive role. Patience may be a virtue, but it was a bloody aggravating one, in his opinion.

Finally the door opened, and he was ushered inside. The hooded figure turned to Draco and the other Death Eater and whispered to them. In response, they both walked past Snape, brushing his shoulder roughly on their way out of the room. Young Malfoy sneered at his Professor, seeming bitter about having to step out.

"So good of you to join us, Severus," the man said as he pulled off his hood. "I was worried that you weren't going to show up for the fun."

Snape was overcome with relief when Lucius Malfoy revealed himself. Although he didn't particularly favor the man, it was a far better gamble than facing the Dark Lord. He felt more confident now—maybe he could play his cards right after all.

"Lucius," he said, giving a stiff nod. "The Dark Lord has sent me to check on your progress with the girl."

"That's quite unnecessary, I assure you. We both know that my capabilities are up to par…"

And yet, I'm feeling generous tonight…" Lucius said, pausing for effect. "Perhaps_ you_ should be the one to complete the ritual. Right, old friend?" he said, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Of course, _my friend_. I will gladly take over," Snape said with voice as silk.

Lucius nodded and then handed him a crimson robe, stopping to grip his wrist firmly.

"Remember that the Dark Lord is counting on our success. But a _faithful_ servant such as yourself surely knows that," Malfoy said as he quirked a brow.

Snape roughly pulled the robe from the Death Eater's hands and sneered.

"Of course. I have never failed our Master, and I do not plan on breaking that record any time soon," he replied.

Lucius turned to leave but stopped near the door. Turning, he flashed a grin of perverse amusement.

"Oh and Severus, let us know when you're done with her," he said as he started to laugh. "And to think…if only that old codger, Dumbledore, knew that you were deflowering one of your own students. Simply Priceless. I would almost pay to see the look on that fool's face.

"Don't forget to put her in those ceremonial robes when you've finished. I'll prepare the next phase of the ritual. And do try to have a little fun, Severus. Life's too short not to enjoy the spoils of war."

Lucius ended his words with a quick nod and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Severus let out an exasperated sigh, turning to face the girl he was sent to rescue. She was huddled in the back corner of the bed, trembling. Her eyes were wide, showing that she was clearly traumatized.

"Do try to calm yourself, Miss Granger. Whimpering and whining aren't going to get us anywhere," he snapped, ignoring the fact that any other man would at least show her the common courtesy of sympathy.

"I have a plan, but you're going to have to put on an act. Hopefully that isn't too difficult for you," he said.

Her fear seemed to be overcome by her ever-present sense of curiosity. She fired questions at him, hoping to gain some answers.

"What's going on, sir? How did you find me? What is this place?" she asked.

"All will be explained in time. We must focus on the task at hand," he said, wishing that she would stop talking.

"You must act as though I am forcing myself on you. I realize how loathsome that prospect is," he sneered, "but, we can't have the Death Eaters suspect anything.

"Therefore, you struggle, and I'll explain the plan," he said.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, staring at her. She finally figured out that he was waiting for her to act.

"Oh, erm. GET OFF ME! Stop! Please don't!" she shouted.

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. He spoke softly,

"That was absolutely pathetic Miss Granger. I won't have a student of mine putting forward such a weak performance," he prodded her.

Hermione narrowed her eyes, annoyed by his insults. How dare he manipulate her after all she'd been through? She let out a shrill scream.

"You greasy git! You bloody bat! Get the hell off me! I'd rather die than be touched by you!" she gritted out, ending the rant by making sounds to imply she had spat in his face.

"Getting better, Miss Granger. Now, about my plan," he said. "This will sound strange to you, but I need you to imagine an old memory from your past. Something safe. A place where you felt untouchable. Think."

She scrunched her noise, raking through her memories. She jumped when he yelled.

"You filthy Mudblood whore! I'll teach you to show some respect. It's a pity that our dear Potter doesn't get to be the one to take your innocence. I will enjoy pounding every bit of know-it-all out of you until you're left broken, begging for me to take you again," he said darkly.

He ripped the bed sheet, creating the sound of clothing being torn. He then turned back to Hermione and raised an eyebrow. He lowered his voice again.

"Have you thought of anything yet? Please, don't let my act disturb the intricate workings of your teenage mind," he said icily.

Hermione blanched.

"How do you expect me to do any quality thinking with you shouting such things?" she asked, showing her frustration. "That speech didn't exactly kindle fond memories."

Hermione soon realized that she had no choice. After some fake sobbing, throwing of furniture and more yelling, she finally thought of a memory.

"Okay, I've thought of one," she said quietly.

"Good. I want you to concentrate solely on that memory. Nothing else exists—let it all fade away. It's just you and your safe haven, nothing else," he coaxed. "You must overcome this situation. Let yourself tap into your mind. Concentrate."

She jumped slightly as he placed his index fingers on her temples, his other fingers wrapping around the sides of her head.

"Concentrate," he repeated, letting his deep voice sooth her. "Our minds can work together. Draw me into your memory—into your mind."

Their eyes locked, and Hermione felt a strange, tingling sensation. It was the prickles that one gets when a limb falls asleep, but it was coming from inside her head. She tried to close her eyes, but Snape reprimanded her, insisting that she again 'concentrate.'

She felt his presence in her memory. The room that they were in started to spin, and everything seemed to go blurry. The last thing she remembered was her Professor's voice before things went black.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"What! You're not letting _him_ complete the plan, are you, Father? You said I could take her," Draco spat furiously.

"Show some respect, boy," Malfoy Senior seethed, gripping his son's arm. "You don't think he's actually going to rape her, do you?"

After he spoke, Hermione's screams echoed from the room. Snape sounded angry with her, yelling something about her being a Mudblood whore.

"H-he's actually going through with it…" Draco stammered, eyes wide.

"You imbecile, of course he's not. You don't think that he's a spy because of his dashing looks and suave manner, do you? Severus Snape sleeps with deception, claiming it as his mistress," he said matter-of-factly. "And to think, he actually believes that the Dark Lord is behind this delicate plan," he laughed.

"It looks as though you might be losing your touch, old friend," Lucius concluded.

"What do we do now?" His son asked.

"We will be doing some searching. I wonder where in the Mudblood's mind they'll be headed first. What fun this is. Leave it to Severus to make things interesting," he smiled, for oh, how he loved a challenge.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione groaned, shifting slightly. She wondered if everything had been a dream—one hell of a dream at that. Opening her eyes, she was disoriented. Darkness was everywhere. Shaking the last bit of confusion, she realized that she was just in her bed, under her covers. Pulling the blanket down, she smiled at the site of her room. It filled her with comfort, surrounding her with the soft glow of her bedside lamp, contrasting with the dark night outside. Her pink walls and all twenty-six of her stuffed animals (named and ordered alphabetically, of course)—

Stuffed animals! She blinked in confusion. This wasn't her current Muggle room, and it obviously wasn't her room in Hogwarts. It was an exact replica from her past.

She visibly jumped when she heard a moan from under the covers. She reached over to see what was there. The mass beneath the thick comforter snorted.

"If you except to live, you shall kindly remove your hand from my thigh, Miss Granger," he said sharply.

"Oh!" she gasped, drawing her hand back. "Sorry, I uh. Well, it's hard to distinguish what's what from under all these blankets," she said, blushing.

He sat up, taking a look around the room. He especially noted the wall color.

"I never would have taken you for a pink type-of-girl," he said as he raised an eyebrow.

"Oh yes, that. Well, my mum chose it for me. I never really fancied it much myself," she lied.

As a girl she had loved the feminine shade, and secretly longed to be a princess when she grew up. Of course, that phase didn't last long, her thoughts turning much more practical after her first taste of school. She was decisively the most ambitious six-year-old in her class.

"Why are you in my bed, Professor?" she asked him suddenly.

"You're the one that brought us here…to this memory of sorts. But why you'd choose a pink, stuffed-animal-filled room of all places is beyond me. It's actually making me feel ill--like I had a long night with the bottle and misplaced my Hangover Potion," he said.

They sat in silence for a few moments. Snape started to become aware of the fact that they were still sharing the same bed. He swung his legs around, preparing to stand. He stopped short when a soft knocking came from the door.

"Quick, hide," Hermione hissed. "It's mum!"

He didn't have time to look for a hiding spot, choosing instead to slink back under the covers. Hermione then covered his side with her stuffed animals, hiding his form.

"Come in mummy," she called out.

Mrs. Granger opened the door and smiled at her daughter.

"Still awake, dear? I'll tell your favorite bedtime story and then it's straight to sleep with you. It's your very first day of school tomorrow after all," she said gently.

"Something tells me that you're going to like school, love," she told her daughter.

"Yes, I want to," Hermione said simply, trying to play the role of the six-year-old daughter that her mother saw. If she only knew.

Hermione could feel Snape shift uncomfortably next to her. Her mother sat down on the bed and opened a small book, beginning to read. She paused only to instruct Hermione to scoot over more to make room.

It was a very awkward situation for Hermione. Her mother was on one side of her, reading her a bedtime story. On the other side of her was Hogwart's snarky Potions Professor, running out of space on the bed after all their 'making room.'

She tried to keep calm when her leg touched his leg. She felt him pull away, but move back again to touch her. She was surprised at first, but then had to stifle a giggle, realizing that her Teacher had almost fallen off the edge of the bed to get away. There were clearly stuck in close proximity until her mother decided to move.

Finally her mum stopped reading and kissed her forehead.

"Goodnight Hermione. Sleep well, love," she said as she turned out the light and left the room.

Hermione moved away from Snape, giving him some room.

"Now what do we do?" she asked him.

She was glad that the lights were out, hiding her reddening cheeks. It was rather embarrassing sharing such a vulnerable moment from her childhood with her Potions Professor, let alone playing footsies with him unintentionally.

"It should be obvious. I guess you don't know as much as you appear to know.

We use this spot to figure out a new plan, until they find us here. It's only a matter of time," he explained.

_This accursed place must be draining my energy as well. I can't recall what Albus said about getting back once I found her. I think we're supposed to—no, that's not right. Well, we could always try—preposterous. Evasive actions may be needed sooner than I imagined_, he thought.

"There is one thing that we can try. And this time we're going to do it my way," he commanded. Taking hold of her head, he stared into her eyes.

"Again, Professor? I'm not sure I can take much more of this," she said, already starting to feel dizzy.

"Focus, Miss Granger. Focus on what I put in your mind. Concentrate on my memory. Become one with my thought. Do not explore, just obey. Concentrate," he said firmly.

Soon they lost hold of Hermione's room, finding themselves drifting somewhere else entirely. It was like floating through a tunnel, heading somewhere unknown—somewhere that held the safety of light.

As soon as they faded out, Lucius faded in. He took in the child-like room, picking up the book of fairy tales next to the girl's bed. Finding the youthfulness of it all amusing, he tried on the appropriate banter.

"Come out, come out wherever you are, Severus. You can't hide forever," he smirked.

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**A/N:** _I just wanted to take a moment to thank all of my reviewers! Your words mean a lot. I'm sorry I didn't get to reply to each one of you personally, but I am still thankful._

_My wonderful reviewers (Chapters 1-3):_  
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